


A Christmas Prince: Destiel Style

by SPNFanBoy



Category: A Christmas Prince (2017), Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, M/M, Mild Language, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-05 23:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14629557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPNFanBoy/pseuds/SPNFanBoy
Summary: This is my Destiel spin on a scene from the movie “A Christmas Prince” that loosely follows the same plot; therefore, this will probably spoil the movie for ya.





	A Christmas Prince: Destiel Style

**Author's Note:**

> This is my Destiel spin on a scene from the movie “A Christmas Prince” that loosely follows the same plot; therefore, this will probably spoil the movie for ya. Comments are greatly appreciated, especially comments pointing out spelling/grammatical errors (I am certainly not a professional editor). If you haven’t seen the movie, I recommend you give it a watch. It’s your generic cheesy chick-flick Christmas movie: boy meets girl, there’s conflict, then they fall in love. My brain just couldn’t help adding Dean’s snarky dialogue, for some reason. Anyway, hope you enjoy!  
> Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Supernatural or A Christmas Prince and I’m certainly not making money off of this.

Hearing a heavy knock on his door, Dean opened the door absentmindedly. 

“Oh, great! We have to talk,” he said to Cas, who was standing in the hallway and looked like he wanted to ask him something.

He opened his mouth and started, “Well, Dean I—”

“Nope, sorry man. It’ll have to wait. My thing is much more important,” Dean interrupted, opening the door wider and motioning for Cas to enter the room. “Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Cas shut his mouth and tilted his head. “How could you know which one’s more important if you haven’t heard what I have to say yet?”

Dean flopped on the couch and gave a humorless chuckle. “Oh, just trust me.” He patted the spot on the bed next to him. After ensuring Cas’ comfort, he sighed. “Now, this is going to be a lot of new information all at once. Most of it you aren’t going to like. Well, scratch that. You probably aren’t going to like any of it. 

Cas started to speak, eyebrows furrowed. Dean held up a hand. “No, no. My turn to talk. I have a lot of shit to get through, and I can’t do that if you’re constantly questioning me. Now, where was I…” Dean looked around the room and spotted the red folder lying on his desk. “Ah!” He got up, swiped it off the desk, then frowned. “Actually, I’d better give you some background first. And this is the first thing you really aren’t going to like.” Dean started pacing around the ostentatious room nervously. “You really need to just keep calm throughout this whole ordeal, got it?” At this, he looked at Cas who nodded his head quickly, curiosity practically burning through him.

“Alright.” Dean stopped his pacing and looked at Cas. “My name isn’t really Dean Smith. Well, my name  _ is _ Dean, but it’s Dean  _ Winchester _ .” At this, he looked away from Cas and resumed his pacing, eager to get this debacle over with. “I’m actually a journalist — yeah yeah, scum of the earth, I know — but I’m kinda shit at what I do, example A. My sister told me to fuck you over totally and write the story anyway, but my brother told me to follow my heart and — I’m rambling, sorry.” Cas sat rigidly on the bed, his eyes following Dean and his mind working furiously. “Anyway, I was supposed to dig up dirt on you to write a story, but. You’re really cool, man. You’re totally not the spoiled douchebag I expected. You’re nice, and — and funny, and the kids love you, and — look, what I’m trying to say is that this whole thing got really out of hand and I’m sorry.” He looked cautiously at Cas and saw a blank face. He sighed. “I really don’t know how I expected this to go.” He looked at the folder. “Anyway, the whole reason I’m coming clean — besides the fact that it’s the morally right thing to do — is this.” He held up the folder in question. “I found this in your dad’s desk at your cabin. It’s — a bombshell, to say the least. I’m giving it to you because you deserve the truth.” Dean handed Cas the folder and watched with bated breath as he opened it silently. 

Cas took the folder with what could only be described as pure dread. His sister’s tutor with whom he had fallen hopelessly in love was a liar. Not only that, but he seemed to think that whatever this folder contained was even more earth-shattering! Cas opened the folder the way one might regard a bomb that had just stopped ticking. Inside were official looking papers. Lifting one out with shaking hands — shaking with anger or fear he didn’t know — He read “Birth Certificate for Castiel Milton” on one page and “Birth Certificate for James Novak” on the other. And on the third and final page, a certificate of adoption for "James Novak". 

“Oh” was all he said, before ceasing movement and staring at the page with pursed lips and closed off eyes. Dean watched the whole process with anticipation and cold, sickening fear twisting through his body. He watched Cas make four with a two and a two and go into what was probably shock. 

After about ten seconds, Dean shattered the heavy silence with a soft whisper, barely loud enough to hear. “Cas?”

Cas raised his head and looked at Dean with sorrow and heartbreak swirling in his blue eyes. 

“Cas, I’m so sorry,” Dean said, sincere apology written over every inch of his freckled face. 

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” Cas stated, his deep voice soaked in emotion. He took a moment to school his face into a pained smile and started to gather up the papers that just took his life and neatly flipped it upside down.

“Cas, wait — we have to talk about this —” Dean said, stepping in between Cas and the door. Staring at Dean stonily, Cas tried to shove him aside. With his muscles shaking from the shock, he didn’t move Dean an inch. Hot tears traced his cheeks as they seared with anger.

“My whole life is a lie, Dean! Just let me go!” Cas’ voice broke. “I’m a lie! This —” he motioned to both of them: “This was a lie! You think I would forgive that so easily?”

“Hey, c’mon Cas” Dean pleaded, his heart in his throat. “You can’t do this!”

Cas’ face closed itself off and his tears ceased. The wall of his public persona came crashing over his body. “And who, exactly, are you to  _ presume _ to order me around! Go pack your bags, you’re leaving first thing in the morning,” Cas practically spat at Dean, his back straightening in fury. Dean scrambled for a reason to make him stay, the gears in his mind spinning erratically. Suddenly, they came to a screeching halt.

“Wait, Cas! My brother figured out the poem! You were right, it was a puzzle. He thinks there’s something in the acorn ornament!” Cas, already out the door, turned around and stared at Dean. 

“Now why, pray tell, should I trust  _ you _ ?” He demanded with an acidic tone, marching back to Dean with his eyebrow arched. 

Dean met his gaze with tears still streaming down his cheeks. “I love you, asshat. None of  _ this _ ” he motioned mockingly to the two of them. “None of this was a lie. Not for me, at least.” He rubbed his cheeks and awaited a response.

After a seemingly endless twenty seconds, Cas nodded stiffly. “Follow me.”


End file.
